


Shadows and Spite

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 09:02:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11332626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: An alternative opening for season 5. Scully is quietly contemplating her relationship with Mulder, when all hell breaks loose.





	Shadows and Spite

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Shadows And Spite by unChuck

Shadows And Spite  
By unChuck ()  
April 15, 1998   
Archival: Okay to archive at MKRA/MSSS, others - please email request.  
Summary: An alternative opening for season 5. (M/K) Scully is quietly contemplating her relationship with Mulder, when all hell breaks lose.   
Spoilers: End of season 4.

* * *

Shadows And Spite   
By unChuck

Part 1

It had been two weeks, two long weeks since Dana Scully had identified the body of her FBI partner Fox Mulder. Since that time her mind had been filled with nothing but questions and doubts. How had she gotten involved in this whole mess? Was this the path that she had chosen for herself? Was this what she wanted, to tie her destiny to a man like Mulder? Was there no escape from this insanity? Even in death, he was controlling her life, defining her existence. 

WHY? Why had he done this thing? Why had he left her here with no explanation, no understanding, only emptiness and doubt. Damn you, Fox Mulder, she thought to herself. Damn you to the hell of your own imaginings.

And now, here she was, at his apartment again. This was her third visit to his apartment in the past week. The time was late, as usual. She had been here much too often, but only here could she find refuge from the thoughts and images that haunted her, only here could she be at peace.

Scully let herself into the apartment, using the key Mulder had given her more than two years before. As she entered, the interior was dark. This was the way she liked it, illuminated only by the light coming from the window at the end of the living room. A digital clock on the desk read 1:37 am. The room was layered with overlapping shadows, like the folds of some dark shroud. Scully found comfort in the shadows and darkness, they so perfectly captured her life with Mulder. She sat down on the leather sofa and closed her eyes, letting the world and the events of the past few weeks fall away. The small carry bag that she brought with her slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor, soon to be forgotten.

Scully let herself become one with the darkness, and let the shadows envelope her like a warm blanket. One by one, the questions that had burned in her mind faded into the darkness. Finally, she was at peace, no more doubts, no more questions, only silence and the comfort of her memories.

In many ways, this was the closest she'd ever been to Mulder. Their relationship had been a complicated one, not some simple friendship or lover's bond, their connection was something more intangible than that. But there was a part of Mulder that she would never know, a part of himself he had kept hidden. She wondered what secrets he might have held there, what feelings and emotions were buried deep within his heart. Now, with his death, she would never know. But still, she could accept this, embrace the unknown portion of his life. He would forever remain a mystery to her, a puzzle not quite complete. And yet, she knew the essence of him, she knew the truth of the man.

Her body relaxed and her tense muscles unknotted themselves, as she opened her eyes to again gaze on the darkness and shadows that criss-crossed the room. Suddenly she sensed a disturbance. There was something there, something in the darkness that didn't belong. She looked around the room, searching for it, for the thing that should not be there. What was it that was disturbing the balance in her world of isolation?

Out of the darkness came a form, a projection, as if the darkness itself was creating a shape. The darkness was coming alive. The shape glided slowly across the room, it's inky blackness filled her heart with dread. It moved towards the chair and seemed to take up rest there. The silence of the room was only heightening her fears. Through the window, the clouds parted and the moonlight spilled into the room. The dark form took shape and her fear was given a face. 

The green eyes of Alex Krycek glowed in the moonlight illuminating his face. A wry smile crossed his lips as he drank in the image of a shocked Dana Scully sitting across from him. 

Scully reached for her gun, but hesitated. The hatred churned in her stomach. This man, this killer, had no right to be here, no right to violate this place and the memory of Fox Mulder. "What are you doing here?" Scully struggled to get the words out. 

"I might ask you the same question," came Alex's reply.

A long silence filled the room as Dana Scully stared at Krycek, hoping, somehow, to defy the fear the was welling up inside her. Her hand firmly gripped the gun as she prepared to strike down this enemy seated so casually before her. But then she observed a change in her antagonist. The smile left his face, and was replaced by a melancholy expression. He cast his eyes down to the floor and a great sadness seemed to come over his face.

"You know, you aren't the only one around here with unresolved feelings for Fox Mulder." 

\--------------

Part 2

Mulder was on top of him. Beating him senseless. Banging his head against the floor. Kicking and punching him in every conceivable manner. Screaming obscenities, and demanding an explanation for all the wrongs that he had committed.

Scully's mind was all a jumble. It was Mulder she was witnessing, Mulder, a man who was supposed to be dead. But here he was, every ounce of him in mortal combat with their hated enemy, Alex Krycek. This was all too much for her, she tried to focus on the moment, the events that were happening before her eyes. Scully was concerned that if she didn't stop Mulder soon, Alex Krycek would be dead. But how could she stop him, and worse, did she *want* to stop him? 

This was a battle she had witnessed innumerable times -Mulder and Krycek in a brutal struggle, Krycek doing his best to taunt Mulder to the edge of sanity and Mulder doing his best to almost kill his traitorous former partner. What was it, Scully pondered, what was it that kept Mulder from actually doing it, actually pulling the trigger? What hold did Krycek have on him?

How had this all started, how had they come to this horrific place?

\--------------

"You know, you aren't the only one around here with unresolved feelings for Fox Mulder." Alex's words burned in the darkness of the apartment, like a black flame, invisible but deadly.

Those words echoed in her mind. They weren't what she was expecting from her enemy, they were not in her realm of possibilities. Scully hated this man. He disgusted her. He was a liar, a thief, a murderer. He had killed her sister, and so many others. Alex Krycek wasn't a human being, he was a rat, the lowest form of life on earth. She wanted to shoot him. Isn't that what Mulder would have done? 

And yet those words kept ringing in her ears. 

"Feelings for Fox Mulder."

She wanted so much not to have heard them, wanted for them not to have been spoken. 

"Feelings."

Rats don't have feelings. Rats feed off of the excrement of human beings. They spread disease and death. They don't care. They don't have emotions. They don't. They can't. Love.

"Feelings."

Scully's gun dropped to her side. She didn't have the strength to kill him. She could no more kill him then she could kill herself, kill the feelings inside her.

She needed Mulder and Mulder needed her. She was his logic, and he was her emotion. But what about Alex, how did he fit into the equation? Did he and Mulder have the same need? Was Mulder the search for pure truth, and Alex the harsh reality of it all?

Mulder had lived a life without compromise, searching for the truth. Scully knew this, she'd lived through Mulder's battles, his refusal to compromise. She'd experienced first-hand his crusades for the truth. But Alex, what about his life? Had it been nothing but compromise, the balance of lesser evils? Who was the truth, and who was the fiction?

\--------------

Mulder lunged at Alex. All the hatred that he'd suppressed was boiling over. How many people had Krycek killed? Their faces passed through his mind. His father. Scully's sister. Pendrell. Duane Barry and the tram operator. How many deaths had Krycek been responsible for? How much pain had he caused? It was time to strike out, and return the pain to it's original owner.

The two men fell to the floor. Alex was surprised by the speed and ferociousness of Mulder's attack. Mulder landed on top of his enemy and proceeded to slam the other man's upper body against the hard floor. Over and over, Mulder forced the man's head to strike the floor. Mulder wanted him to feel the pain, have it consume his enemy. 

Alex wanted to plead for him to stop, but the words wouldn't come. He knew somehow that Mulder needed to do this thing, needed to release all the hatred and disgust that had built up inside of him. It was his penance for a life of compromise, a life that shamefully paled compared to that of the man he so admired. The life of the man that was now beating him senseless.

"Why! Tell me Why!" Mulder's words demanded the truth from Alex Krycek. His eyes, full of fury and rage, locked with those of his enemy. Acid sweat dripped from his face and burned the skin of the bloodied man below him. Finally, the blows stopped as Mulder waited for his answer, waited for one more reason to resume his assault.

"Kill me," came Alex's reply. "Kill me for my sins. For all the people I've harmed, who's lives I've destroyed. For the lies I've told. Kill me for all my future crimes."

Suddenly, Mulder pulled him up by the collar and twisted him around. He grabbed Alex by the wrist, squeezed tightly and tossed him against the wall. Alex screamed in agony as his arm was wrenched from his shoulder and his face and chest slammed into the unyielding plaster wall.

And then there was deadly silence.

Alex slumped to the floor. The pain now consumed him, leaving him with nothing more to give. Bruised and battered, he lay clumped in a submissive pile.

Mulder stood in the middle of the room, his fury exhausted. The faint light from the window cast the agent's ghostly shadow on the floor. It outlined the image of a man, standing alone in the darkness, but not completely alone. The shadow held something - a ghastly appendage.

Scully looked with shock at her partner but could only manage to say, "My god, Mulder." Her words echoed in the darkness of the room, swirling around the three of them.

Scully's words roused the last bit of strength that Alex had in him. He slowly collected himself and stood up. Trickles of blood dripped down from his forehead. His breathing was heavy as he looked over to Mulder, his sharp green eyes piercing the darkness.

"Can I have my arm back, please?"

\--------------

Part 3

Scully stared at the man standing in front of her. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she struggled to come to terms with the events of the past hour. Did she recognize this man? Was this truly Mulder, her former partner? His face was flushed and his chest visibly expanded and contracted with the rhythm of his heavy breathing. His face and arms glistened with his own sweat and the blood of Alex Krycek was spattered across his body.

Scully looked back over to the floor where the artificial limb lay, it too glistening with sweat and blood. Her head turned so that her eyes could focus on Alex Krycek, the arm's original owner. He was standing there, also breathing heavily, his eyes transfixed on Mulder's back. Somehow, she understood that this was a side of Mulder he knew all too well. 

She looked back into the eyes of her partner, searching for the man she once knew. But before her she saw only a hate filled fragment of the partner she once shared her life with. She looked back at Krycek, noting the empty sleeve dangling at his side. This agent of evil may have been physically incomplete, but it was all too clear to her that Mulder was the more damaged man. She looked deeply into his intense eyes and saw only a beast, a killer, a man consumed by his own irrational passions. Was this Mulder's secret? Was this beast the side of Mulder he had kept hidden from her, buried deep within his heart? 

For a moment, panic set in her mind as the two men seemed to change places. Standing before her, she saw the body of Fox Mulder, but the anger and corruption that was painted on his face was something she had expected of the other man. And, there, standing behind Mulder was Alex Krycek, the traitor. But as she examined this man's face, she saw none of the evil, none of the deception - she saw fear and confusion and longing. Her mind could not take much more of this, it would not accept this version of events, as she stood there, frozen, incapable of any action to stop it.

Still frozen, she watched as Mulder's hand reached out towards her gun. Mulder's action struck fear deep into her heart, because she knew his intention. "No, Mulder, please, no." She tried to turn her head away from Mulder, to deny his request, but how could she refuse him, even in this? Her grip on the gun eased as the weapon turned in her hand, exposing the grip of the gun to her partner's outstretched hand.

Mulder turned quickly and pointed the lethal weapon at Alex Krycek. Mulder focused his aim directly at the young man's blood-stained chest. He did not notice the empty jacket sleeve hanging limply to the side. He did not notice the streaks of sweat and blood covering the leather jacket nor the splotches of blood staining his former partner's white t-shirt. He didn't notice the blood dripping from the man's forehead or the bite marks he himself had made on the younger man's earlobe. His focus remained like a laser beam pointing directly at the heart.

"I asked you a question!" Mulder spit out the words with heated anger at the enemy standing defiantly before him.

"Go ahead Mulder, pull the trigger and get it over with." Mulder's words had struck a nerve within Alex, he'd had enough. Enough of Mulder's beatings, enough of this humiliation. No more hiding form his nameless and faceless enemies. He wanted it to be over, the pain, the knowing wrongness of his life. He would welcome death and the enveloping silence it would bring. No more mistakes, no more regrets, no more questions to be answered in all the wrong ways. No more Mulder haunting his every waking moment. He wanted Mulder to do this thing, Mulder was the one person he trusted, at least in this. He would welcome death by Mulder's hand, just as he would welcome it from his lips. He wanted Mulder, he wanted him to pull the damned trigger, it would be the perfect climax to their relationship.

"No, not until you answer my question! Tell me the truth, I want to know the..."

"You lied to me."

Mulder looked confused, the gun trembling slightly in his hand. Somehow, this answer shook him to his very core. The battle with Alex had exhausted him and dulled his senses, making him vulnerable. But Mulder would not let this slippery rat confuse him, he quickly refocused his mind on the task at hand. He would not let Alex shake him, would not let his enemy escape this time. The fire in his eyes burned all the brighter.

"You lied to me. Your body made promises your mind couldn't keep, Fox." Alex's eyes glowed with intensity and sharpness equal to that of his opponent.

"Don't call me that!"

Scully stood there, absorbing the verbal battle, attempting to judge the direction the fight would go. She wanted this to end, and without someone dying. But no matter what tactic she considered, each one lead to someone getting killed. Krycek's words brought her back, suddenly, to the reality of the moment. She heard his words, but did not comprehend them. "What's he talking about, Mulder?"

"Stop it Krycek, you're the one who's lied, the one who's killed. Now I want the truth." Mulder continued to wave the gun at his enemy. Despite his every effort, Alex was out-maneuvering him. This was a situation that Mulder could not tolerate, would not accept. He wanted the truth, he wanted *his* truth, not this, not these words, they were not acceptable.

Alex wiped the blood from his forehead, taking a stronger stance facing the two FBI agents. "I gave myself willingly, Fox. My body and my soul. I gave you everything, Fox."

"Stop calling me that!" Mulder was losing control. Alex's words were reigniting the deepest, darkest fires within him, drawing him away from his mission of uncovering the truth behind all of the conspiracies. Drawing him back to memories of events that he'd long since convinced himself didn't happen.

Mulder's photographic memory dug deeply into his brain, into its darkest corners and revealed images that he wanted so much to deny. Images of passion and abandon. Two bodies entwined, swollen lips pressing against swollen lips, eyes on fire, hands moving with all due swiftness over naked flesh. He fought the memories, battling them back down to the dark recesses of his mind, but it was a battle he was losing.

"My god, Mulder," Scully looked with shocking disbelief at her partner. With hesitation, she continued, "you slept with him?" The words fell with great pain from her lips as the confusion built up in her mind. This was not the man she knew, this could not be, it could not have happened. 

Scully fought to control the swirling vortex of emotions that was overtaking her. Her head tilted to one side and her tear-filled eyes focused on Mulder's taught face, searching for her own truth, waiting, hoping that somehow this man could resolve the words that had been spoken and take away the confusion in her mind. She waited for the clarity that he could bring, but it was not Mulder that spoke, it was not Mulder who answered her plea.

"No, he just fucked me, Scully." Alex brushed his hair back with his remaining hand. "Fox never slept with me, he just wanted me for the sex." His blood-soaked hair was easily slicked into place. Alex was growing more confident, stronger, despite the horrendous beating he'd received, finally, for once in his life, he held something more powerful than any weapon that Mulder could use against him - he held the truth. "Isn't that right, Fox?"

"He's lying, Scully, it wasn't like that, it didn't happen that way." Mulder's eyes darted back and forth between Scully and Krycek, between one hopeful truth and one painful reality. "You're lying Alex, now tell me the truth, damn you!" He was beginning to panic like a caged animal. He was fighting a battle, but not with the bloodied man standing in front of him. It was a battle with the images in his head, a battle of denial, a denial of what he most feared. A battle against that which he most cherished, a battle with the truth.

Scully felt her throat constrict, as if the shadows that criss-crossed the room were reaching out and slowly strangling her. Outside the window, a large bank of clouds passed over the moon, and the room was again filled with darkness and shadows. She looked over at Mulder as the blackness covered his face. She could make out the faint outline of his arm falling to his side, the gun still gripped firmly in his hand.

The darkness that had only a short time ago been her welcoming friend, was now filled with beasts and demons of her worst imaginings. She looked over at Alex, still standing there, motionless. His green eyes glowing in the darkness, like a sad, wounded animal. The hatred she once held for this man was now all crumbling away. 

Her world had been turned upside down. The man she came here to mourn was standing before her, and yet he bore no resemblance to the soul she once cherished. Across from Mulder stood Alex Krycek, once her hated enemy. But now he too was different, not so evil, not so incomprehensible. She realized just how complicated Alex was, had she ever really understood him? Was the picture of him she had created in her mind clouded by Mulder's own prejudices? She worked up the courage to speak, to break the silence and somehow bring this episode to closure. She looked at her partner and asked him the same question she had asked Alex, "What are you doing here Mulder? What have you done?"

Her whole body was filled with pain and confusion, as she tried to extract from Mulder's face a better understanding of the man. She looked at every line and wrinkle, every curve to see if she had somehow misjudged him. She looked into his dark eyes, now welling with tears and traced the contours of his lips waiting for his reply. Dread filled her heart for the words he might speak, the awful truth that she knew would be revealed.

"You know, Scully, you aren't the only around here with unresolved feelings about Alex Krycek."

\--------------

Part 4

Scully watched, as again the two men struggled on the floor, bodies twisted like so much barbed wire, tangled and bloody and dangerous. It was as if time and events were repeating themselves, over and over again, but with each occurrence new permutations, new bizarre tangents were unleashed.

"Unresolved feelings for Fox Mulder." Those were the words Dana had witnessed from the lips of Alex Krycek. He had spoken them and lit a fire in the room, a blazing black inferno of hatred and lust had been unleashed by those few, simple words. And only moments later Mulder had used those same words, those same, incomprehensible words. "Unresolved feelings." How could there be, how could Mulder, what part of him could feel this way about Alex Krycek? She wanted it all to stop, wanted for all the words not to have been spoken. 

The two men wrestling on the floor were not the two men she knew. The Mulder she remembered was supposed to be dead, that is why she had come here, to mourn him. The Mulder she remembered was a man without compromise, a man of honesty, not a man that would, that would... The thought frightened her, the idea that Mulder would be intimate with this man, this personification of evil, this devil in black leather.

"You lied to me." Krycek's words echoed in her mind.

It could not be, Mulder could not be that man. He would not have done that thing. He would not have used this younger man, or anyone, in that manner, would not have rejected someone, used them and then tossed them away. But there were Alex's words, words Mulder did not deny.

"He just fucked me."

Those words, that concept, was not in her realm of possibilities. "...fucked me..." Krycek could not be the victim. "...fucked..." Krycek was the liar, the thief, the murderer. "I gave myself willingly, Fox." Krycek was the user. "I gave you everything, Fox." It couldn't be Mulder. "...just fucked me..." It couldn't be. She needed to understand, to know, who was the truth and who was the fiction.

And before her the battle continued. It was clash of wills, a competition, an exchange of hate, a denial of truth. Scully stood over them, watching silently in the darkness, waiting, frozen in a world of confusion and doubt. Like the queen at an ancient jousting match, she waited for the battle to be over, and a victor declared.

How had this all started, how had they come to this horrific place?

\--------------

Mulder stood there, the gun at his side, and his words still hanging in the air like the heavy breath from a dying man. "You're not the only one with unresolved feelings about Alex Krycek."

She watched as Mulder stepped back, trying to somehow distance himself from his own words, his own admission of guilt. But his movements were echoed, as Mulder stepped back Alex took a step forward, physically pushing the words back onto Mulder, refusing to let the words escape and hide in the shadows. "I tried Mulder, I tried to share the truth with you, but you didn't want to hear, didn't want to know." Alex's words trembled from his lips, full of doubt and confusion. He was reaching out, searching for the part of Mulder that he had known so long ago. "You wanted your truth, it was such a meaningless thing compared to the truth of my feelings for you, feelings I thought we somehow shared. Did you hate me that much, Fox, was my caring for you so incomprehensible? Would it have been that difficult to know me and know the truth as well?"

\--------------

With each word the two men spoke, Dana Scully became more tightly bound within her world of questions. They constricted her, choking the very breath from her lips, binding her every muscle, so that she was unable to move, unable to react. She could not even reach down to pick up the gun that lay at her feet. She was frozen and as the darkness and the shadows of the room circled around her, it was as if she were not even there. But yet her eyes observed and her ears listened and her nostrils inhaled the smell of the blood and the sweat and her brain absorbed every painful second of the exchange between these two men until her mind was filled to overflowing with question upon question, doubt upon doubt.

Did Mulder know, did he take an enemy unto his own bed? Had Krycek told her partner of his deceits and was this why Mulder had rejected him? Who was the betrayer and who was the betrayed?

But this much she knew, knew that in some way, these two men had been sexual partners. But Mulder had rejected Alex, for reasons he would not say. There were so many unanswered questions. Why would Mulder involve himself with Krycek? What had gone on between the two? For these many years Scully had pictured Krycek only as a source of evil, as the man who had killed her sister. But if Mulder had been with him, there must have been something there, some element of goodness within Alex that she could not see.

\--------------

Would the battle ever end? Scully considered the possibilities. Yes, this battle would end soon, but the war was far from over. The war would continue on and no victor would ever be declared. This was the simple beauty of Mulder's world - there would always be another lie to uncover, another conspiracy to reveal. But never, in her deepest imaginings, did Scully consider that Mulder would be the liar, that Mulder would be the one unmasked.

She watched as Mulder collapsed, exhausted, onto the sweat covered body of Alex Krycek. For a few moments the two layed there on the floor, silent, unmoving. The battle was nearing it's conclusion, and soon Dana would know. "Tell me the truth!" This had been Mulder's demand of Alex. 

She observed the two men, Mulder lying entangled atop Alex. They were covered in the sweat and blood and gore from their fevered battle. Mulder's hand pressed against the empty shirt sleeve that once held Alex's artificial arm. Had this too been something that Alex had sacrificed for Mulder? What had Alex said earlier? "I gave myself willingly. My body and my soul."

For a moment, the two men lay there motionless. Mulder was on top of Krycek, pinning him to the floor. The pose was strangely intimate, the two men laying chest to chest, their legs entwined and their mouths almost touching, their breaths becoming one. Slowly they began to stir, body rubbing against body, rough cheek against rough cheek, heaving chest against heaving chest. The two men breathed heavily, weary from the battle. Even in the darkness, Scully could see them, note every movement of their tense muscles. There seemed to be a knowingness between them, as if this contact were choreographed, each man responding in time to the other, daring to touch.

\--------------

Slowly, Mulder returned to reality, his sanity if only fractionally restored. He had used every ounce of energy within him, and still was unable to vanquish his opponent. He lifted his head and looked into the face of this man. The devil was a sly bastard, wrapping up everything he hated in such a pretty, tempting package. He saw the tears, one by one trailing from the corners of his enemy's soft green eyes. Mulder gently reached up with his hand and wiped away the salty drops and tried to clean Alex's bloody face. Mulder looked into these pools of sorrow and regret, searching, somehow trying to cancel out the violence, the pain that he had inflicted on this other man. He reached out, trying to hold on to what for this brief moment was genuine.

Reacting to his former partner's gentle touch, Alex slowly reached up with his remaining hand and delicately ran his fingers through the sweat soaked hair. The silkiness of Mulder's scalp felt good to him, it was a tenderness and pleasure he and long missed. Despite all that had happened, all that Mulder had done to him, he still longed for the intimacy the two had once shared. It had been a dangerous game they played, secret ways, always having to pretend.

Alex felt the pounding of Mulder's heart through his shirt; it beat in time with his own. They shared a rhythm, a connection that even hate and distrust could not cancel out. Alex knew this man, intimately, every fiber of his body had been mapped by his hand and his lips. He welcomed Mulder's touch again, it arose all his deepest memories of their brief time together.

Giving in to this renewed passion, Alex marshalled all his energy and suddenly flipped Mulder onto the floor. Now he was on top of the other man, pinning him down with the weight of his body. Alex looked down at Mulder, but not with anger or with hate, as Mulder had done, but with sadness and longing. He looked deeply into Mulder's eyes trying to express the passion he held for this man. Slowly, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against those of his former partner. 

The kisses began, cautiously at first, but then with more emotion, more heat. He was returning Mulder's hate, Mulder's violence with something quite different. He was returning it with love.

\--------------

Mulder was being overwhelmed by his emotions, by feelings he'd long forgotten. They were washing away all the hate and the anger that had so consumed him only a few moments ago. But still, the fear remained, a fear that was screaming inside his head, a fear that demanded for it all to end. This was a fear that shouted Alex's name, but yet could not quite reach his lips, lips that were now deeply entwined with those of his mortal enemy.

The fear screamed in his head and demanded to be heard. If it could not reach his lips, it would find another path, another way of breaking free. Mulder's hand reached over and picked up the gun laying on the floor beside him. Slowly, his hand turned, pointing the weapon at Alex's rib cage. He took aim at the heart of his love, at the core of his lust. Mulder looked deeply into Alex's eyes and pulled the trigger.

He felt Alex's body jerk suddenly, the force of it passing like a spasm through his own flesh. He was lost in Alex's eyes, becoming one with his former lover. Mulder could feel every emotion, every sensation that touched his lover's body. He felt the shock and fear just as Alex felt them. Mulder tasted the first few drops of blood coming from his lover's mouth as the two men continued to kiss. Despite the violent action, the bond between them was unbroken. Mulder could feel the warm blood that oozed from Alex's body create a pool at his side. He watched as the glow drained from the young man's eyes and sensed as he struggled to speak.

\--------------

Scully stood there, still motionless, despite hearing the shot fired from the gun. To her mind, it was just another piece of information, just another observation, another fact to be filed away. She had become one with the darkness, a disembodied observer. 

She continued to watch, as Alex weakly drew his fingers through the pool of blood puddling at his side, bringing his hand up and gently stroking the course lips of his former lover. She watched as the two men looked deeply into each other's eyes with an intensity and passion only lovers could share. Alex's fingers slowly painted a deep red slash of blood across Mulder's now swollen lips and down across his chin. She watched as the very life drained out of this man, a man she once considered to be nothing but evil, but now with whom she shared some uneasy sympathy.

Dana was struck with an unforeseen clarity. The gunshot, like a clap of thunder, had dispelled all her questions, all her doubts. It was now that she finally understood these two men, understood what bound them together. She watched as Alex's head fell, coming to rest on Mulder's shoulder. She looked down at the two men, the two lovers, and noted the warm embrace as Mulder reached out and held Alex gently in his arms and quietly cried.

She bent down, finally unbound from her torment and reached out with her hand, softly stroking the sweat-filled hair of her former enemy. There would be no more questions, no more unresolved feelings. It was over, and the truth was here, even in the darkness, the truth was like a beacon chasing away the shadows, washing away the spite.

"I hate him, Scully. I hate him because I love him."

THE END

Shadows And Spite by unChuck

###


End file.
